You Have A Genius For Bringing Trouble

No One Could Have Called Mr. Standen Quick-witted, But The Possession Of Three Sisters Had Considerably Sharpened His Instinct Of Self-preservation.

Miss Grantham's Sense Of Humour Got The Better Of Her At This Point, And, Tottering Towards A Chair, She Sank Into It, Exclaiming In Tragic Accents:'oh Heavens! I Am Betrayed!' His Lordship Blenched; Both He And Miss Laxton Regarded Her With Guilty Dismay. Miss Grantham Buried Her Face In Her Handkerchief, And Uttered One Shattering Word: 'wretch!

[...]my Memory Is Reasonably Good—unlike Yours, Dear Sir!” “mine Is Erratic,” He Said Imperturbably. “i Remember Only What Interests Me.

Perhaps,” Murmured His Lordship, “i Yielded To A Compassionate Impulse.” “a What?” Gasped His Best Friend. “oh, Did You Think I Never Did So?” Said His Lordship, The Satirical Glint In His Eyes Extremely Pronounced. “you Wrong Me! I Do, Sometimes—not Frequently, Of Course, But Every Now And Then!

You’ve No More For Me Than I Have For You.” Considerably Disconcerted By This Direct Attack, She Stammered: “how Can You Say So? When I Am Sure I Have Always Been Most Sincerely Attached To You!” “you Deceive Yourself, Sister: Not To Me, But To My Purse!